


You're the only thing I need

by yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)



Series: Quarantine 2020 [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, COVID-19, Canon Compliant, Dirty Talk, Hair-pulling, M/M, POV David Rose, Patrick Brewer is a Cockslut, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Praise Kink, Two Cocksluts in Love, there is a semblance of plot... in theory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:33:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23803909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau
Summary: Patrick orders a truly ridiculous amount of lube and just smirks when David’s mouth drops open at the sheer quantity that arrives on their doorstep. Patrick makes him close his eyes while he hides bottles in random locations all over the house. There are certainly far worse quarantine prospects than this.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Quarantine 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1716373
Comments: 44
Kudos: 303





	You're the only thing I need

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is brought to you 50% by quarantine boredom and 50% Noah's livestream of Hold On the other night, which just did things to me emotionally (three guesses where the title is from).

David has never been so grateful for his obsession with hand sanitizer as he is during the COVID-19 outbreak. It’s legitimately terrifying how many people seem to treat ‘wash your hands’ as some new instruction especially for these circumstances as opposed to something they should have been doing at every point up to now. David has never considered quite how unhygienic a career in retail is before, but now he’s hyper aware of every cough, every sneeze, every person who touches a product and then doesn’t end up buying it.

The amount of soap David buys for both the shop bathroom and home quadruples, and he finds himself scrubbing both his hands and the counter after every sale. Patrick only gives him a miniscule amount of shit about it, which proves more than anything else that Patrick is genuinely worried about the whole situation. David watches him recalculate their household budget for a lower income and helps him stock up on non-perishables, thinking not for the first (or fiftieth) time how lucky he is that this eminently practical man decided to marry him. 

David’s parents are the first ones to wind up in lockdown; only a few days after production on _Sunrise Bay_ is halted, all of California is ordered to shelter in place. Johnny calls, voice deceptively calm, but David can hear his mother’s histrionics in the background — slightly muffled, as if they might be filtered through a closet door. David hears the edge in his father’s tone and hopes the Rosebud chain will be okay. He knows with his mom on a prime time contract again they’ll be all right, certainly in a better financial position than they could have imagined when they came to Schitt’s Creek, but of course any downturn in the motels doesn’t just affect Johnny — it’s Stevie too, and also Roland and Jocelyn, though admittedly they’re pretty far down David’s list of concerns.

Alexis is next, just a few days later; New York goes into lockdown seemingly overnight and she calls annoyingly early, voice bubbly as she offers to help extend the store’s online shopping capability. 

“It’s not really the immersive experience we’re looking for if people are shopping Rose Apothecary products in their pyjamas, Alexis,” he says. Patrick starts gesturing at him from across the room, and he turns his back. 

“David,” she replies, voice uncharacteristically serious. “When Schitt’s Creek shelters in place, no one will be able to come to the store. You and Patrick don’t _have_ another source of income, and you have a mortgage. You need to do something.”

David sighs. He hates it when Alexis is the more sensible one. And yes, he knew they’d have to do it, has known for a while, but he feels like he needed to protest anyway, as a matter of principle. Patrick has gotten back in front of him and is nodding emphatically, hands on hips.

“Fine,” he grinds out, and hangs up the phone before Alexis’ squeal bursts his eardrum.

Patrick steps in and presses a kiss to David’s cheek, hands running up and down David’s arms soothingly. “I know that was hard,” he says, and David pretends he doesn’t notice the teasing lilt to his voice.

“Mm yes, it was, thank you for noticing,” David replies. He tilts his head in invitation and Patrick peppers kisses behind David’s ear, on his jaw. _“Very_ hard, actually,” he murmurs, and it’s at least halfway to being true already. 

Patrick grins against the soft skin on David’s neck. “You’re insatiable, David Brewer-Rose,” he whispers. His lips make their way across David’s throat, up the other side. “And I’m very proud of you for making such a… hard… decision,” he finishes the sentence nibbling on David’s earlobe.

A small moan escapes before David can stop it. They’ve been married six months now, and he’s pretty sure they’re supposed to be settled and boring and not _want_ so much, all the time. He’s also pretty sure the words _I’m proud of you_ aren’t supposed to coil low in his stomach and turn him on they way they do, and he hasn’t figured out if it’s the words themselves or the fact that Patrick always, always says them like he really means it that can get him from nothing to achingly hard in seconds.

He spins Patrick around and pushes him backwards, stumbling into the nearest wall. He’s on his knees almost before he realises it, unzipping the fly on Patrick’s stupidly sensible jeans and pushing them and his underwear down his thighs. He thinks about teasing, drawing it out, but he wants it too badly and Patrick is already carding his fingers through David’s hair, so David contents himself with one slow lick up the underside of Patrick’s cock, right to the tip, before he sinks down on the whole thing in one go.

“Holy _fuck_ , David,” Patrick shouts, his fingers tightening in David’s hair. David hums when he feels the pulling against his scalp and releases Patrick’s dick with an obscene pop, teasing the slit for a moment with his tongue, enjoying the taste before swallowing it all down again, his nose pressing against Patrick’s abdomen.

David fucking loves giving head, and he especially loves giving Patrick head. He knows he’s amazing at it, for a start; deep throating properly is a skill, dammit. He loves the way Patrick alternates between running his fingers through David’s hair and tugging, the pulling getting more and more pronounced the closer Patrick gets to coming. But he especially likes that it always makes Patrick— 

“Oh my fucking God, David, you’re so fucking good at this, fucking fuck, suck my fucking cock, Jesus Christ you look so fucking good with your lips around my dick, please don’t stop, please, holy fucking shit…”

—run his filthy mouth. Listening to buttoned-up business major Patrick alternate between cursing, praise, and begging is incredibly fucking sexy. 

Patrick’s really fucking his face now, and David’s just along for the ride. He is so unbelievably hard and a part of him really wants to touch himself, but he knows it’s going to take next to nothing to get him off and he knows Patrick will be disappointed if he can’t get his hands on him. 

“I’m gonna come David, you’re gonna make me come so fucking hard aren’t you, please baby, I need to come, please, please, gonna come down that pretty fucking throat—” and true to his word, Patrick’s fingers tighten and still in David’s hair as his orgasm hits. David swallows it all down and lets his tongue swirl around Patrick’s cock as he releases it. Patrick’s leaning heavily against the wall and he takes two deep breaths before he’s fisting David’s sweater, hauling him up onto his feet and making short work of his trousers. He wraps his hand around David’s cock and it takes a truly embarrassing two and a half strokes before David is crying out, sinking his teeth into Patrick’s collarbone as he comes all over his husband’s hand.

“Thank God the store is closed today,” Patrick mutters when they catch their breath. He’s sagging against the wall, sweat beading at the base of his throat, and David can’t help but lick it up. Patrick groans.

“Oh my God, David. You’re… going to have to give me an hour.”

“Mmm?” David’s hands come to rest on Patrick’s hipbone, and it’s only 60% due to the fact that he’s struggling to hold himself up. He can’t get any words out, his tongue flattening as he drags it up the side of Patrick’s neck. 

“Jesus. Maybe 45 minutes.”

David grins.

* * *

A week later, David and Patrick are in lockdown too.

They’re much better positioned for it than most couples, David thinks. After all, they work together day in and day out, so they’re already used to being in each other’s pockets 90% of the time. Alexis gets their web store set up for them, and they spend the last few days of freedom boxing up all the stock and bringing it back to the house so they can pack everything up for shipping from home. Patrick orders a truly ridiculous amount of lube and just smirks when David’s mouth drops open at the sheer quantity that arrives on their doorstep. Patrick makes him close his eyes while he hides bottles in random locations all over the house. There are certainly far worse quarantine prospects than this. 

And yet. That little anxious voice at the back of David’s brain, the one that’s quiet more often than not ever since he met Patrick, starts piping up again. _Before, he could get a break from you when he needed one,_ it whispers, when David’s trying to fall asleep. _How quickly is he going to get sick of you now he can’t?_

“I can hear you thinking, you know,” Patrick says on the first night of lockdown. David’s been staring at the ceiling, willing his stupid brain to shut up and his pulse to stop racing so he can get to sleep, but it obviously hasn’t worked. 

“Sorry,” he whispers. He feels awful that on top of everything else, now he’s keeping Patrick awake. “I just…” he trails off. They’ve been actively working on the whole communication thing, but David really doesn’t want to say out loud what’s worrying him. He knows he’s going to sound needy, and he hates that.

Luckily (or maybe unluckily), Patrick is annoyingly perceptive. “Worried I’m going to go mad from hanging around you all the time? Because, you know, usually I hardly see you at all.” There’s a smile in his voice, but David knows he’s not laughing at him, and it loosens the knot in his chest just a little.

“Yes, but you also have baseball, and hiking, and theatre. You can… take a break,” he tells the ceiling, because he doesn’t want to turn his head and look at Patrick. The decision is taken out of his hands though when Patrick slides a hand over David’s hip and rolls him over so they’re facing each other, on their sides. 

“David,” he says softly, and it’s Patrick’s Very Sincere Voice, which makes David focus. “I do those things because I love them. If you ever want to come on a hike with me, I would love for you to join me. If you wanted to do community theatre I’d make out with you backstage at every rehearsal. I still think about you in that damn baseball uniform,” and that last part is more of a growl. “I love having hobbies, but _none_ of them are about getting away from you. You’re my favourite person to be around, all the time.”

David’s smiling now, and his eyes are wet. “You’re my favourite person, too,” he says, and entwines his fingers with Patrick’s under the sheets. “And we’re definitely going to revisit the baseball thing when I’m less tired.”  
  
Patrick laughs. “Sweet dreams, David,” he murmurs, and David has exactly that.

* * *

_Patrick’s hair is long,_ David suddenly thinks, a few weeks into quarantine. 

Patrick has let his hair grow out a little since coming to Schitt’s Creek, but like… from a number 2 to a number 4, maybe. David’s never seen it longer than that, and the fact that it’s been growing out without regular barber access is something that hasn’t been noticeable day by day until David gets up one morning to see Patrick on the couch, hunched over his guitar, and he realises in shock that Patrick’s hair is curling — _curling_ — around his ears. 

David’s mouth is suddenly very, very dry. He sneaks up behind Patrick, as quietly as he can, and slides his hand up the base of his neck to his scalp, tangling his fingers in the hair there. Patrick leans into the touch, practically boneless as he presses into David’s hand.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Patrick says, and tips his head back for a kiss David is more than happy to give him. David leaves one hand threaded in Patrick’s hair and slides the other down his chest and under his shirt, feeling his heartbeat.

“Someone’s in a good mood this morning,” Patrick grins. He’s already setting the guitar aside and David takes the hint, walking around the couch and clambering up into his husband’s lap. 

“Mm, yes, well. Turns out the shaggy-haired musician look is something I can get behind. Or on top of,” David says, hands back in Patrick’s hair as he gives him a proper kiss this time, deepening it and moaning around Patrick’s tongue. By the time he breaks the kiss they’re both panting and Patrick is staring up at him, lips slightly swollen and pupils blown. 

“I would have stopped cutting my hair years ago if I knew I was going to get this kind of reaction from you,” Patrick says, but he’s still slightly breathless and it comes out less cocky as he probably intended and more needy. David likes him needy, and he leans in to kiss him again, rocking their hips together. They’re both still in their pyjamas and there’s very little material in the way of their cocks rubbing together. David rocks again and Patrick gasps.

“Wait, wait. I want…” and before David knows what’s happening Patrick has flipped him over so he’s sitting on the couch — well, sprawled is more like it — and Patrick is settling between his legs.

“Oh, fuck yes,” David pants, and he quickly pushes his pyjama bottoms out of the way. Patrick kisses his way up David’s thigh before sucking his balls into his mouth, and David gasps, grabbing his own thighs to try and stop his legs from shaking.

Patrick releases his balls and starts licking his way up the shaft, maddeningly slow. “I want,” he whispers, hot breath along the tip of David’s dick, and he can’t stand it. 

“What do you want, honey? Anything you want, anything, that feels so good baby, you have no idea.”

Patrick, though, seems a little lost for words. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, before grabbing one of David’s hands and placing it back in his hair.

“Oh fuck yes, honey, God I love this long hair on you. It’s so sexy.” He brings his other hand up as well and strokes and caresses Patrick’s scalp as Patrick _finally_ wraps his mouth around David’s dick and starts licking and sucking along the length of it.

David looks down, loves seeing the brown curls creeping around his fingers. Patrick’s staring up at him, clearly trying to communicate something with his eyebrows, but the blowjob is far too good for David to muster up the brainpower to interpret. After a few seconds of this, Patrick actually _rolls his eyes_ , brings the hand that isn’t wrapped around the base of David’s cock to one of David’s hands, and squeezes it into a fist.

_Oh._

David’s never been able to do this before, with Patrick. His hair’s never been long enough. “You little _slut,”_ he murmurs, absolutely delighted, and he tugs on Patrick’s hair, nice and light, with both hands.

Patrick groans loudly around David’s cock and swallows it down further. He tugs again, and again, a little harder each time, and Patrick gasps and moans and yelps each time. It is without a doubt the hottest thing David has ever heard in his entire life and he can feel his balls tightening. He tugs sharply, pulling Patrick off his dick, and Patrick actually _keens,_ tongue hanging out.

_Holy **shit**. _

“Patrick, I need you to fuck me, please, please, fuck me, God,” David knows he’s babbling and he doesn’t care. Patrick stares up at him and deliberately licks his lips, nice and slow, before reaching under one of the couch cushions and pulling out one of the bulk lube bottles.

David laughs. “How have I not found that one yet?”

“Saving it for a special occasion,” Patrick grins. He’s already lubed up his fingers and slides one into him, and David has to grip the base of his dick to stop himself coming then and there. It’s a close thing, and David’s just managed to slow his breathing when Patrick adds a second finger, then a third.

David’s really writhing now. “Please fuck me, honey, please, I’m so close, I need you inside me, please,” he whimpers.

“I’ve got you, I’m here,” Patrick says, pressing kisses into David’s thigh as he strokes himself a couple of times, spreading the lube everywhere. He shifts up slightly, pulls one of David’s legs up around his torso and slides inside him with one smooth stroke, moaning as he bottoms out and pressing little kisses into David’s calf.

“This… is not going to take long,” Patrick mutters, and then he’s sliding out and back in, at a maddeningly slow pace. David brings his hands back up, tugging Patrick down by his hair to kiss him, messy and sloppy and perfect. Patrick gasps into his mouth and picks up the pace, slamming into him, finding just the right angle and suddenly David is coming so hard the edges of his vision white out, without even touching his cock. Patrick presses their foreheads together and doesn’t break eye contact until his own orgasm is upon him a few seconds later. 

They stay pressed together like that for a moment, then Patrick slides out of him — David whines at the sensation — and collapses onto the floor. Neither of them move, trying to get their breathing under control.

“David, can you pass me my phone?” Patrick asks suddenly, breaking the silence.

“Um, I’m pretty sure I’ll never be able to move again, actually,” David replies. “What could you possibly need your phone for right this second?”

Patrick hums in contentment. “Oh, I’m deleting my barber’s number. Never going there again.”

David musters up enough energy to throw a cushion at him. It misses.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on [Tumblr](http://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com).


End file.
